


Irritation

by kindanerdy



Series: Idrilla Sylvas [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: ... as a prank, F/M, Leliana is scary, Meditation, Pants on Fire, but he's def a total butt, dealing with anger appropriately, implied sexual relationship, isn't that what the council is FOR?, mages or templars, making Cullen BLUSH, not terrible, not the kindest toward Cullen, or...almost on fire, pranking Cullen, war room, why am I making this decision? Like, withdrawals suck amirite?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 17:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19816996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindanerdy/pseuds/kindanerdy
Summary: Idrilla, Rilla to her friends, is DONE with these Shems. Like totally done. Any more shouted circular arguments and she's going to rip her own hair out and jam something down her ears to rupture her own eardrums.Thankfully she knows this one guy who's always calm and quiet. Surely he won't mind if she uses a little corner of the floor for meditation?Well that works out great until someone finds her.-Part of the Idrilla Sylvas Series, but can stand alone.





	Irritation

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all. So I was WICKED irritated for no rational reason this evening (actually, lets be real here it's because I was at that one lvl 12 rift by Dennet's farm, and I'd almost defeated it by having my characters all attack from on top of the waterfall, but then everyone had to go and decide to FALL OFF THE FUCKING WATERFALL. ASSHOLES.) Anywho.  
> I was irritated and this scene just came to me. It wanted to be written.  
> Eventually it will fit in with my larger fic that I am writing but won't post until I'm further ahead than I am, but this piece begged to be posted, and since it worked as a one-shot I decided why not?  
> Also... this is only lightly edited, so if you see a really obvious typo, feel free to point it out (in a separate comment from anything else you want to say so I can fix the typo and delete the comment please)  
> ~Elven translations at the bottom, because there's only one, and it's right there, at the bottom lol~  
> Love ya!

‘Rilla scowled as she evaded _another_ messenger looking for her. After storming out of the meeting, where everyone was going round and round and _round_ in circles, the council had been sending these… _lackeys_ after her. She needed to calm down before she could even think of walking back into that bloody meeting room or it was going to get _literally_ bloody.

She knew that the best way to calm down was meditation, but where to go where no one would find her? If she left Haven she’d be followed, without question. Leliana still wasn’t quite sure that she trusted her, if Rilla was reading her right. Her own cabin was completely out of the question. The tavern would just irritate her further, and she couldn’t handle Varric’s _yammering_ right now.

But Solas… _Solas_ was calm and quiet, and probably wouldn’t mind if she borrowed a bit of his floor for mediation. Creeping around the back alleys and keeping to the shadows wasn’t anything new to her, and it actually didn’t take her any longer than normal to get to his cabin. Actually, she mused, it was _shorter_ , since no one stopped her for anything. Making sure there was no one around, she darted to his door and hurriedly knocked. Thankfully, he answered the door quite promptly.

“Hey, Solas, mind if I come in?” She asked quickly, barely waiting for an accepting face before darting around him. “Close the door please?”

He raised his eyebrows, shutting the door after her. “Good evening lethallan. What brings you here?”

“Peace and frigging quiet,” she grumped. “I figure, you do your thing, your studying or fade walking, or whatever, and, if you allow, I pull up a piece of floor and have myself a little meditation, with no yelling, and no arguing, and no petty concerns that have nothing to do with anything.”

He blinked at her. “… Is there something you wish to discuss, Rilla? I would be willing to listen.”

She sighed. “Ma serannas, lethallin. I may take you up on that, but not now. I am so freaking irritated, I just need a minute to calm down. Or an hour. Or _twelve_.”

He chuckled. “Ma nuvenin. I shall return to my studies, then. You are welcome to my floor, or even one of my chairs, should you wish.”

“Ma serannas,” she replied, and sat down in front of the fire. Woodsmoke had always been a comforting scent for her, always reminded her of home and family. She hoped the scent would help quell her irritation with these shemlen and their petty arguments.

No sooner had she gotten settled and begun her breathing regimen then a knock came to the door. She and Solas both huffed, then Solas chuckled.

“I take it you do not wish people to know you are here?” He asked politely.

“Not if at all possible.”

He smiled. “It should be. Why don’t you go wait near my bed. Whoever this is, they won’t be able to see you from the door.”

“Ma serannas, Solas,” she replied as she moved.

When she was adequately concealed from view, Solas opened the door.

“Yes?” She heard Solas ask.

“Oh, aah, Messere Solas. Uh… we’s, we’s been asked ta find the Herald, messere, by the council. We’s been instructed to bring ‘er to ‘em.”

“Oh _void_ no!” Rilla exclaimed, storming out of cover. Solas raised his eyebrows and hid a smirk, but moved to the side so she could see the messenger.

“You think, even for _one second_ , that you’re going to haul me to the council like a prisoner than you have another thing coming, _shem_.” Rilla hissed at the poor fellow. “I am a free person, not a prisoner, and _not a fucking slave_. So you go back to the council and you tell them that unless someone is _dead_ or gonna _be dead in short order_ , I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t want to _see_ council business, I don’t want to _hear_ council business, and I sure and fuck don’t want to _do_ council business. I will go back to the council _tomorrow_ , and not one moment before.”

The messenger, a pock-marked fellow with greasy brown hair and crooked yellow teeth, gaped at her for a second, then sneered. “Whachu doin’ that’s so important you can’t do yer job, _Herald_?”

Solas could see the flames dancing on the end of her fingertips, and shook his head. This idiot messenger was going to get himself killed. He was about to step in, when Rilla opened her mouth again.

“Making mad and passionate love!” She yelled. Solas blushed and massaged his brow. “And the next idiot that shows up here and interrupts me is going to get their trousers lit on fire!” And she slammed the door in their face.

She turned around and put her back to the door. Letting out a long breath she said, “Ir abelas, Solas. I… shouldn’t have said that without permission. But _really_! What am I _doing_?”

He shook his head. “It is not me that I worry about with that pronouncement, lethallan. You are the one with the reputation to maintain.”

She shook her head. “It isn’t anybody’s business who I sleep with, or don’t. And, honestly, if Josephine and Leliana can’t even keep _one_ messenger quiet, what good are they? No, I have no doubt that if it is truly important that no one think we’re sleeping together, the messenger will never speak of it.”

Solas smiled. “I think you overestimate the ease of such things. Particularly when such a pronouncement was made at such a volume that more than the messenger could have heard it.”

“What _ever_ ,” Rilla snarled. “They’re the children that keep having the _same argument_ over and over again at the top of their lungs. Maybe it’ll give them something constructive to do.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to go back to meditating, if it’s alright with you.”

Solas nodded his assent.

_Meanwhile in the War Room_

The door banged open, causing Cassandra and Cullen both to reach for their weapons (Leliana subtly reached for hers as well, but only the extraordinarily well trained would have spotted the twitch).

“Meserres! We’s found ‘er!” An out-of-breath messenger exclaimed to the room at large.

“Well then where is she?” Cassandra snapped, noting the lack of the Herald behind him.

“She said she ain’t commin’!” He exclaimed.

Cullen ground his teeth, and Lady Josephine frowned delicately, while Leliana demanded, “Where did you find her, and what _exactly_ did the Herald say?”

“At that ‘postate mage’s place, Sister. An’ she said she ain’t no prisoner, and she ain’t no slave, so I weren’t gonna be haulin’ her nowhere. She said she weren’t commin’ back ‘til tomorrow, ‘less someone was dead or gonna be dead.”

“What?!” exclaimed Cullen furiously. “The hundreds of dead at the Temple weren’t enough for her?”

“Quiet,” Leliana demanded. “Was that all she said?” she asked the messenger.

“No! I asked her, I says, ‘what be so important?’ An’ she says she were makin’ love!” Josephine quietly gasped, and Cassandra and Cullen both blushed. “But I think she was lyin’! ‘Cause that Solas feller, why didn’t he look surprised when she said that, _and_ he turned red as my ma’s tomaters! Then she said the next feller that commed lookin’ was gonna get his trousers on fire!”

“How dare she!” Cullen snarled. “People’s lives are at stake here and she’s out there threatening people with magic so she can keep on doing who knows what with her _friends_?!”

“Commander,” Josephine started, but Cullen interrupted.

“No! No, I’ve had quite enough of her cavalier attitude! People _have_ died! People _are_ dying! And she damn well _will_ get _in here_ to _fix it_!” He yelled as he stomped out.

As the door slammed shut behind him and the messenger he’d forced out in his wake, Josephine looked at Cassandra and Leliana and said softly, “We have been running her non-stop since the breach opened.”

“Yes!” Cassandra snapped. “Because it is needed! Because she is the only one who can close the rifts! Does she wish instead to be only told what to do? Not have input on the decisions?”

“The opposite, I believe,” Leliana replied thoughtfully. “We have been quite loud in expressing our opinions, to the point of excluding hers.”

“Perhaps her idea is prudent,” Josephine mused, tapping her quill on her portable desk. “Tempers have been… high. A break for everyone to calm down and organize their thoughts may be the best solution to our circular arguments.”

“Agreed,” Leliana said shortly, as she began to gather her papers.

Cassandra grumbled, but agreed. “Perhaps we were being a bit…over-enthusiastic. I will try to stop Cullen,” she decided, and made for the door. “We shall reconvene tomorrow? Midmorning?”

At the other two’s assent she strode from the room.

“Can I hide under your bed?” Rilla casually asked as another knock came at the door, this one harsh and insistent.

Solas chuckled, and began capping his ink and wiping off is hands. “If you’d like, lethallan.”

“Oh, I definitely would,” she replied, making a beeline for the bed. She paused when she heard another, even more insistent knock, and grinned at him over her shoulder. “Since it’s only _my_ reputation you’re worried about, would you mind taking off your shirt before you answer the door?”

Solas froze. “Why?”

She giggled. “Because I’m fairly certain that’s Cullen, and he’s such an…innocent. He’ll turn such an interesting color if you do, and then tomorrow when I have to see him again he won’t be able to look me in the eye!”

Solas carefully considered, then sighed and drew his shirt off over his head, draping it over the chair, before heading toward the door.

She laughed again as she hid just around the corner. At Solas’ raised eyebrow she said “What? I don’t want to miss his _face_!”

Solas shook his head and opened the door.

“I know she’s – Maker!” Cullen blurted, his face going from stormy and irritated to shocked and bright red. She covered her mouth with her hands to keep herself from ruining it by laughing. He quickly turned his back on Solas. “You weren’t actually…Maker’s Breath!”

“Commander, what I do in my own cabin is really none of your business. Now, was there something I could help you with? You did sound rather insistent.”

Cullen cleared his throat. “I’m here for the Herald. She’s needed at once in the war room.”

“Is someone dead? Dying? I believe those were _Idrilla’s_ conditions for returning this evening.”

“Yes someone is dead! Several _hundred_ someones! Have you forgotten about the Temple already!” Cullen spat, spinning back around to face Solas. Rilla could tell he was winding up for a good rant. Again.

Solas calmly cut him off. “But not anyone for whom Idrilla’s immediate attention would make any difference. She can do nothing about the people who died at the temple, tonight. The mind requires _rest_ , Commander, and it occasionally requires a break as well. Often times the best solutions are found when you are not thinking of the problem.” There was a pause. “You look like _you_ could use rest as well, Commander. Now, if there was nothing else?”

“Commander!” Rilla heard, easily recognizing the Seeker’s distinctive accent.

“What!”

Cassandra hurried into view, before drawing Cullen away from the door. She couldn’t hear their conversation, but it was only a moment before Cullen threw his hands up in the air and stomped off toward the training grounds.

“Hmmm,” Solas hummed with raised eyebrows. “Was there something _you_ needed, Seeker?”

“No, Solas,” Cassandra replied, rather more pink than usual. “Though perhaps you would inform the Herald the council has decided to reconvene tomorrow, at midmorning. Hopefully tempers will be cooled by then.”

“Ahh. Yes, that would be beneficial. Much more can be accomplished with a level head. I will inform her,” Solas replied, and he shut the door.

Rilla finally gave in, and laughed. She laughed and laughed until her sides hurt and she could hardly catch her breath. When she stopped laughing Solas stood watching her with a bemused smile, his shirt back on.

“I am pleased to see you were entertained, lethallan.”

“Oh Creators, I haven’t laughed so hard in…ages! And! And you schooled him about taking a break!” She flopped back against the floor, spread-eagle and sighed. “I feel a hundred times better now. Thank you, for that.”

“Melanada*, Idrilla.”

**Author's Note:**

> *Anytime (technically all time, but ya know, we only have so much elvish to work with here…)


End file.
